HP One Shot Collection 1
by Klldarkness
Summary: Soon to be a collection of one shots related to Harry Potter. Rated M just to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

The Good Race

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter, all related characters, locations, and events, are owned by Warner Brothers, J.K. Rowling, and multiple parties. No infringement is intended, nor should it be expected. Fair use only._

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**One Shot: The Good Race**

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**1999 - Abandoned Shack**

Harry's eyes snapped open in the darkness, a twinge in the back of his mind alerting him to danger. His heart pounds as he lurches from the matted bed, long abandoned by it's original owners unknown years ago. The dream, no, the nightmare he had been having washed away with the real fear that filled him to the very core as his well-laid wards are torn asunder. The strength behind the attack tells him that the race is over, that only one man could possibly have broken through. The scuffed and scratched wand clutched in his hand shakes, even as it twitches once, twice, three times, a small twirl at the end. He grunts an unheard word even as the door to the shack explodes open.

The first robed figure through the door is sliced to ribbons, a net of blue light tearing him to shreds, even as the second robed figure blocks a flash of red light that would have burned his eyes from his skull. A flash of green light dodged, a volley of bright purple orbs returned, even as another figure enters the room. Two on one has never been fair odds as far as Harry is concerned, a flick of his wand turning the back wall into sharp shards of wood that flash through the air to slice into his attackers. He tears his eyes away to smack away a nearly invisible ball of energy that had flashed from the darkened woods around him.

With the same motion, he twists his wand, the ground between the shack and the wall of trees cracking open, sending a wall of dirt into the air as a makeshift wall. The wand in his hand nearly crackles with power as he pushes, yanking it back towards the shack. Silent magic was hard, but intent magic even more so. The effort he put into this spell would have killed anyone made of lesser stuff, but he was Harry Fucking Potter, and his will was stronger than most.

'_Down!_' He screamed, pushing his intentions through his magic, even as it took effect, even as a trickle of blood drips from his nose.

With a loud crack, the shack was smashed flat in a shower of wooden splinters, crushing three people, as though a massive foot had slammed down on to it. Twirling in place, his wand alight with a sparkling glow, the splinters, and wood chunks are snagged from the air, forming into a torrent that he sends streaming into the woods. They slam into an unseen force, splitting and burning to ash, as a tall robed figure walks through.

"Harry Harry Harry…" Came a sibilant hiss from the darkness.

The tall man steps from the shadows, his skin pale under the moonlight. His pale red eyes seem to gleam, filled with malicious mirth, a joke that only he could find funny. His long wand is held lightly between two fingers, the end still glowing with the green of its last curse.

"No jokes, Harry? Nothing to...say?" He asked, a light smile reaching his lips. "Ah, that's right...It's good to see that you've learned to survive even without your tongue."

Harry snarled, his wand sparking in the darkness surrounding them. His tongue, long since ripped from his mouth, had been a disability even he had barely overcome.

"There is no one here to die for you this time, Harry. Who was it last time? The blonde one?" The man asked, his laugh mirrored from an unknown number of people in the woods all around them. "Drop the wand, and I will make it quick. I respect you...Harry. The final man standing between me...and the world."

Harry's arm snaps up, a flash of black ethereal light leaping from his wand to smash into his enemy, even as a line of bright white slices his arm off at the elbow. No stranger to pain, the white-hot flash of pain from his missing arm simply angers him, his left hand snatching his wand from mid-air, snapping back into position to block a putrid yellow curse from inverting his skin. A flick and it's gone, replaced with two motes of blue light that spark as though filled with electricity. Voldemort had not been idle after shielding against the black curse, slashing his wand across his chest, a thunderclap of energy emanating outward in a circle.

Harry presses the energy to his missing arm, a silent scream as it burns over the bleeding flash, before snarling as he releases another silent curse. On and on, back and forth, slowly whittling each other away. As each time before, Harry slowly lost ground, dodged a little slower, released hexes and curses at a rate that just didn't stack up. Even after all these years, he still wasn't good enough, yet he felt he couldn't have expected any different.

'_DAMNIT!_' He thought, as another curse just barely missed his foe.

With a final slash of his wand, a curse breaks through, Harry is knocked back, landing hard on his side. Before he can move his left hand is gone, dissolved in a flash of blue-green energy, his wand burning away. He lays there as footsteps slowly make their way to him, before the tall pale figure stands over him. Voldemort has several cuts and burns, a few glancing blows that had managed to make it through.

"Take solace in that you will be remembered, Harry Potter. Not as The-Boy-Who-Lived, but as the only person to truly challenge me. The last person standing to ever defy me. What was it that you once said, so many years ago? That we're in a race against time, and you've got the headstart? ...You ran a good race...But it ends here and now, Harry, a thousand kilometers from the finish line." Voldemort says, staring down into Harry's eyes, searching for something. "_Avada Kedavra_."

* * *

**July 31st, 1991**

Even as the door crashed open, sending the Dursley's scrambling, and a familiar giant of a man stepped through, Harry Potter couldn't help but smile. Voldemort had said that the race had was done, that Harry Potter had lost.

"I'm Harry Potter." He said, introducing himself to one of his first friends.

But Harry Potter doesn't lose. Call it fate, call it destiny, call it whatever you'd like. In the end, this race has only just begun.

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A/N: Sorry! Please excuse this interruption into your regularly scheduled Fanfics! Just a quick one-shot I pumped out during a lunch break. I love a good time travel fic, and I've always wanted to try my hand at one. Perhaps one day? Until next time, this is Klldarkness, and this is a Oneshot Harry Potter story.


	2. Chapter 2

Control

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter, all related characters, locations, and events, are owned by Warner Brothers, J.K. Rowling, and multiple parties. No infringement is intended, nor should it be expected. Fair use only._

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**One-Shot: Control**

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**1996**

The past few years had been tough for Harry...The Stone, The Chamber, The Prisoner, The Tournament...and now, tragedy once more had struck. Dumbledores office full of broken trinkets, the only person he'd ever known that truly loved him unconditionally dead, gone, forever. His body still wracked with the agony of possession, his scar on fire like never before.

'_My fault...my fault...my fault…_' He thought, as his feet carried him down the long hallways of Hogwarts.

The walls here were bare, so far from the normal paths taken by the students. No paintings, no windows, only the light of lit lanterns every dozen feet or so. Harry couldn't even say how many floors down he had gone, but in the back of his mind, he would have sworn it was many more than ten. The only sounds are his footsteps, plodding along, the pounding of his heart, the sharp dagger of pain in his brain with every beat of his pulse. On and on he walked until he found himself at a dead end, the last turn off dozens of feet behind him. He rests his hand on the cold stone of the wall, his eyes closed before he drops to his knees. He turns, placing his back against the wall, hugging his knees as exhaustion washed over him.

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_As the agony in his scar reached a fever pitch, something deep within Harry Potter awoke..._

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Several hours passed before Harry Potter's eyes opened, but when they did he felt many times better than he had when he passed out. The mixture of pain, sleep loss, and magical expenditure had clearly been more than he could handle. Shaking his head, he got to his feet, dusting his hands off on his pants. A wave of sadness pass through him, the loss of Sirius weighing heavily on him, nearly sending him back to his knees. He pushed through it, forcing himself to take another step.

'_Sirius wouldn't want me to be like this._' Harry thought, as he continued on his way out. '_He'd want me to move forward._'

As he made his way towards the stairs that brought him down, he saw a flash of light out of the corner of his eye, a small glance that saved his life. As he ducked down, a crack echoed through the hallway as the stone behind him shatters, the powerful spell aimed to kill him. He throws himself to the side, another spell slamming into the wall behind him. He rolls to his feet, his wand in his hand just as quick, as a bright white light slams into the shield that popped into existence with nary a thought.

Further down the side hallway, Draco Malfoy stands stock still, his wand aimed at Harry. The look of shock and confusion passes quickly, and with a flick of his wand, he continues his attack.

"This is for my father, Potter!" He yells, before with a twirl and flicks a slash of bright yellow slams into Harry's shield.

_'How did I cast this shield?_' Harry wonders momentarily, before shoving the thought aside.

As the next spell hits his shield, he spins right, casting two spells with blinding speed, faster than he had ever before. The first is dodged, just barely, Draco nearly dropping his wand in the process. The second spell aimed slightly left, slams into his midsection like a lorry, picking him up and throwing him down the hallway where he lands in a heap. The breath knocked out of him, he barely manages to catch his breath before Harry is standing over him, his foot pressed tightly on Draco's wand.

"For your father, Malfoy?" Harry asks, the calmness of the question belying the rage boiling beneath.

Draco gives Harry a scathing look but says nothing, then looks away.

Had he been looking, he would have seen the look on Harry's face change from calm, to rage, a rictus of pain passing over his face, before a spell slaps into Draco's side, leaving a long, quarter-inch wide cut that quickly begins spilling blood.

"Answer me!" Harry roars, as Draco cries out in pain.

"Fuck you, Potter!" Draco yells back, grabbing his side, trying to get to his feet.

Harry slashes his wand, an invisible force picking Draco up, before slamming him to the ground, pinning him to the floor. Harry presses down on the wand beneath his feet, the wood creaking. Dracos eyes widen, the situation he finds himself in growing direr by the second.

"He was arrested because of you!" Draco squeaks out.

The pressure stops increasing but still holds him in place, as Harry seems to consider what Draco had said. Almost casually, scaring Draco more than anything prior, Harry twitches his wand, silently casting the spell that tells time.

"It's only been two hours, Draco. How do you know?" Harry asks in a quiet conversational tone.

Draco considers not answering, but the look in Harry's eyes tells him to reconsider.

"My mother said he never returned…" Draco finally says.

Harry closes his eyes, the realization that Draco knew of tonight's plans filling his mind with horror. The boy in front of him knew that Harry would be led to his death just hours before. Harry leans against the wall, the realization sending waves of anger through him.

"Sirius died tonight…" Harry whispered. "He died trying to save me when I went there to try and save him."

"Good."

Harry's eyes snapped open, locking onto Draco. "W-what did you just say?"

Draco sneers, but says nothing, as his heart begins pounding in his ears. Harry couldn't explain it, but somewhere, in the back of his mind, a roaring sound blanks out all other noise. The hallway seems to almost darken, the flames in the lanterns seeming to shrink. A feeling of emptiness fills him, his anger, his pain, fading away. Harry looks at the ceiling, blinking slowly, as calmness fills his being.

"You know what Draco...I can almost forgive sending me to my death tonight. You're a kid, playing in games much larger than you'll ever know." Harry said as the pressure holding Draco to the floor begins to increase. "But I'm done...I'm done being the last to know. I'm done being led around like a dog on a leash."

As Harry turns his face back downward, locking eyes with Draco, he has to admit that the look of terror on Draco's face fills him with a sort of pleasure.

"I'm taking control of my life. I'm done." Harry says, his blood-red eyes locked on Draco's blue.

"_Imperio._"

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A/N: Sorry! I haven't had much time to write this week(I was on vacation last week, so of course work is a clusterfuck on my return.) So I decided to use what little time I had to push this little one shot out of my head.

Until next time, as always, this is Klldarkness!


	3. Chapter 3

Desperation Pt 1.

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter, all related characters, locations, and events, are owned by Warner Brothers, J.K. Rowling, and multiple parties. No infringement is intended, nor should it be expected. Fair use only._

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**One Shot: Desperation Pt. 1**

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**1993**

It hadn't taken long for the school to turn on Harry, once they had learned he was a Parselmouth. His ability to speak to snakes as damning evidence as they needed to ostracise him completely. The one bright spot being Ron and Hermione, the only two willing to be near him, though Ginny did some times sit nearby.

'_But even they keep giving me shifty looks, as though I may start hearing voices again…_' Harry thought, flipping through a random library book.

His eyes stung as he wiped furiously at them under his glasses, forcing himself to hold back the tears that threatened to break through his facade. No matter how much he was expected to be brave, he was still only a young boy. A young boy being cast out by the only people he thought of as family.

"H-harry?" Hermione asks after she closes her own books. "I offered to help Professor McGonagall with a few things earlier today. Will you be okay here? Ginny?"

Harry nods, his eyes glued to the book in front of him. A moment of silence passes before Hermione lightly touches his shoulder as she moves past, leaving the library.

"I-I have a study group starting soon," Ginny says, before taking her bag and swiftly leaving.

Harry continues to read the same word over and over, before finally looking up minutes later. With Ron in detention, the library seemed empty, even though he knew there were other students at tables not that far away. Harry stood up, intent on switching his book for something he may actually read, moving swiftly through the many many bookshelves.

"_He's dangerous!_" A voice whispers just barely heard through the many shelves.

"_I don't know why the teachers are letting him stay here…_" Another voice replies.

Harry creeps closer, expecting once more to find a table of Hufflepuff's terrified from the attacks, but is shocked to see fifth-year Gryffindors.

"_I've taken to warding the second years' door after they go to bed. If he leaves at night it'll alert me._" Another says.

"_You don't think the teachers have already done that?_" One asks, shaking his head.

"_I don't think the teachers are doing anything...I don't think they see how dangerous he's become._" The other replies. "_You remember last year with Quirrell...now this year with these attacks? What if-_"

Harry turned on his heels and quickly left, leaving his bag behind. His heart was thudding in his chest, his head on fire, burning….burning….burning.

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His feet carried him through the castle, his eyes blinded by anguish and tears. Twice he stopped, sobbing, barely able to move, but he forced his feet onward. Through this doorway, that tapestry, up and up the many stairs. All he knew was that he wanted to get away. He brushed past someone he barely saw, knocking them down with a loud crash, but he didn't stop running. Get away from the people that blamed him, that scorned him, that treated him even worse than the Dursley's.

'_The Dursley's_…' He thought, his mind locking up, '_I'll be stuck there forever…_'

He slowed to a stop, wiping his eyes, letting out a shuddering breath. He gasped for air before his heart finally began to settle down. He wiped at his face, nearly knocking his glasses askew, almost angry at himself for his weakness. He forced himself to his feet, pushing himself to turn around and go back. As he did, another crash came from the end of the long hallway. Harry began moving in that direction, quickly recognizing that he was in the south tower.

'_I wonder who I knocked over?_' He thought as he went back.

As he turned the corner he spotted her, some first year with Blonde hair, laying amongst the wreckage of one of the many suits of armor in the castle.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" He says, rushing over to help her up.

As his hands touched her shoulders he knew immediately something was wrong. He rolled her over, seeing her face frozen in a rictus of terror. He jumped back, her frozen body rocking back and forth slightly.

"Oh god…" He whispered. "I-I need to…"

"HEY!" He hears a voice from further down the hall.

A blast of bright yellow light slams into the wall beside him, yanking him out of her terror. Down the hall, several students are coming, in front of him, another attack victim. He ran further down the hall, away from the student victim, away from his attackers.

"Another! We caught him in the act!" He heard one yell, as he ran further and further.

"GET HIM!"

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Harry crashed through a door, his mind running faster even than his feet, as he realized that there was nothing left now. No one would ever believe he wasn't the attacker. He'd be expelled, sent back to the muggle world, stuck with the Dursleys at least, likely jailed in the wizarding prison at worse. Another blast of energy just barely misses him as he climbs the ladder, scurrying as fast as his hands and feet could carry him, to the top of the south tower.

As the cries from below grew stronger, he felt his heart harden, a sordid determination fill him.

"I'll never go back." He said as he took a final step, and for a moment he was free...

And he fell.

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A/N: See you in part 2!


	4. Chapter 4

**Desperation Pt 2**

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter, all related characters, locations, and events, are owned by Warner Brothers, J.K. Rowling, and multiple parties. No infringement is intended, nor should it be expected. Fair use only._

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**One Shot: Desperation Pt. 2**

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_Harry crashed through a door, his mind running faster even than his feet, as he realized that there was nothing left now. No one would ever believe he wasn't the attacker. He'd be expelled, sent back to the muggle world, stuck with the Dursleys at least, likely jailed in the wizarding prison at worse. Another blast of energy just barely misses him as he climbs the ladder, scurrying as fast as his hands and feet could carry him, to the top of the south tower._

_As the cries from below grew stronger, he felt his heart harden, a sordid determination fill him._

"_I'll never go back." He said as he took a final step, and for a moment he was free..._

_And he fell._

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**Four Hours Later**

The portrait behind which the Gryffindor Common Room hid swung open, the clamor and din dwindling out till there was silence. The tall witch entered, looking not quite so severe as she would normally, to meet her charges as her fellow Heads of Houses were doing elsewhere.

"Professor?" Hermione spoke up immediately. "Professor, no one has seen Harry! I left him in the Library when I came to help you."

McGonagall nearly flinched, only her strength of will keeping her features locked in stone. She studied the girls face momentarily, before sweeping the room of silent students.

"Earlier today…" She started, before pausing, seeming to take a deep breath. "Earlier today Mr. Potter fell from the south tower. We were alerted almost immediately...Despite our best efforts...He passed away shortly after."

"What?" Hermione said, shocked to her core. "No, professor, that...that can't be! He was...I left him in the library! He...he…"

Whatever else she meant to say was lost in a sea of tears, her small body wracked in tears, as Ron attempted to console her. His own face hid it well, but a studied look would show the brimming of tears as well.

"Professor?" Percy asked, standing as tall as he could. "Is this related to the attacks?"

McGonagall studied him as well, before shaking her head. "No Mr. Weasley."

A few more questions were asked, but none bore fruit. All that anyone would know was that Harry Potter was dead and that it was not thought to be related to the attacks. As the gamut of emotions ran through the room, no one noticed a small redheaded girl sitting by herself, smiling as she wrote in her diary.

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**Dumbledores Office - That Evening**

Professor Dumbledore sat as still as stone, his face in his hands as silent tears streamed down his face. Fifty years had passed since last a student had died at Hogwarts, and this one struck him twice as hard. Outside his office, the staircase began to rotate, alerting him to a visitor incoming. While under normal circumstances he would have a portrait to tell him who, they were currently all off in other places, spreading the news. The heavy wood door slid open, the dark figure of Severus Snape in the shadow of the door.

"Albus, the Slytherins have been informed." He says as he sweeps into the room.

"Thank you, Severus...What were their reactions?" Albus asks, replacing his glasses.

"No murderer resides within the house, Albus. They reacted with fear and even sadness. As much as Slytherin may hate him, he was still but a 12-year-old boy…" Severus says, frowning.

"What of the other houses?" Severus asks into the silence.

"Nothing of note...I'm still waiting to hear back from the South Tower Portraits," Albus explains. "It seems that the only two that may have seen anything are hysterical. We'll learn more soon enough."

Severus is silent for a moment, before speaking up. "Do we think this is the work of The Dark Lord? What of the girl?"

"I can't be certain...but no, I do not believe this is his style. Pushing a child from a tall height does not have the theatre that he so craves. I think the proximity to the new attack only coincidental." Albus responds, before suddenly turning towards one of the portraits as it's inhabitants slips into view.

"Albus, I've gotten news from St. Gerald, the hallway portrait in South Tower. I've been told that Mr. Potter came upon the scene of the attack, and was almost simultaneously set upon by a group of students who believed him responsible. They chased him, but he had a sizable lead." Professor Black's portrait said.

Albus frowns, before swiftly standing.

"Albus?" Severus asks, watching him.

Albus ignores the question, rifling through one of his many stacks of items, before coming out with a small hourglass hanging from a golden chain.

"I need to see what happened. I need to know if this was an accident or murder." Albus responds, before turning to leave the office. "Wait here for me, Severus. I'll only be a moment."

* * *

No sooner had the heavy door closed, was it opening once more, an Albus now seven hours older walked in, looking a decade older at best. He sat down in his large chair, taking his glasses off, and rubbing lightly at the bridge of his nose.

"Albus?" Severus asks, having not moved from where he at.

"It was not murder, Severus, but suicide," Albus says, barely a whisper. "I followed him all day, invisible...The children were cruel...they truly believe him to be behind the attacks. When they found him near Ms. Lovegood, they believed to have caught him red-handed...They chased him through the tower...He stood on the railing for a second, before-"

"Enough!" Severus says, his chair sliding back as he jumped to his feet.

"Severus?" Albus asks, startled. "I-I'm sorry...I had forgotten."

"Forgotten what, Albus?" Severus says, "Forgotten that I myself stood on the balustrade of the towers, considering death, after a particularly vicious day at the hands of the _Marauders_?"

Silence fills the room, even the portraits stunned silent.

"I am resigning, Albus. Effective immediately." Severus says.

"Severus, why?" Albus asks, shocked. "We need you now more than ever!"

"Need, Albus? I have never once felt needed in my entire life, and certainly not at Hogwarts. The 'Bat' of the dungeons, they call me." Severus sneers. "But no Albus, I am leaving because my job here is done. Harry Potter has died, and with him, any hope that the Dark Lord will be gone forever."

"Severus, please. The Prophecy may not be accurate. We may have misinterpreted it. There is still hope!" Albus nearly pleaded.

"HARRY POTTER IS DEAD!" Severus roared, slashing his wand, the chair beside him turning to dust.

The silence rings throughout the room, only broken by the soft sniffling of one of the many portraits.

"The Chosen one is dead, Albus. My job here is finished." Severus says. "We have failed…We have doomed us all."

"What of Mr. Longbottom?" Albus asked. "If Harry has died, he can not fulfill the prophecy. It must be Mr. Longbottom."

"If Longbottom is the chosen one, Albus, we were doomed from the start," Snape replies, before vanishing the pile of dust.

"You say that like you thought Harry would one day be capable." Albus says, "Did you come to care for the boy?"

As Severus begins to answer, the heavy door behind them swings open, as McGonagall enters.

"Minerva?" Albus asks, startled at her appearance. "What's happened? Another attack?"

McGonagall can barely respond, her faced coated in tears before she finally speaks up.

"It's Ms. Granger...A-albus, they found her hanging in the bathroom!"

As Albus rushed from the room, Severus stood still, his eyes looking down at the floor, considering follow after. He shook his head, before moving towards the fireplace, and took a handful of Floo powder. A muffled word, a flash of light, and Severus Snape was gone.

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A/N: Maybe we'll see a part 3?


	5. Chapter 5

**The Good Race Pt. 2**

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter, all related characters, locations, and events, are owned by Warner Brothers, J.K. Rowling, and multiple parties. No infringement is intended, nor should it be expected. Fair use only._

* * *

**One Shot: The Good Race Pt. 2**

* * *

Harry sat down on the long bench, watching the food appear on the table before him. All around him students cheered, laughed joyfully, digging into the food with gusto. A small smile adorned his face as he too grabbed a plate. So much had already happened from the moment he awoke within the shack once more. Hagrid...Hagrid was Hagrid. The journey to Diagon Alley had been shorter than his first, with his knowledge of locations and his adult mind able to haggle and make deals with the best of them.

His wand...His wand sang to him as he held it in his hand, the room growing warmer with the energy of the reaction.

"Great things…" Ollivander had whispered, as Harry left the shop, and Harry couldn't help but agree.

Time travel...Time travel was not easy to start. True time travel, not the faux version offered by time turners, was even harder to stop. Harry hadn't ever really considered the implications of that, as he had stumbled along the path best left forgotten…

* * *

**Ten Years from now, and many lifetimes ago…**

The war was over...Had been over...What little resistance was left had crumbled long ago, torn asunder by the onslaught wrought by Voldemort's merciless power. That Voldemort had moved on to the muggles, waging a terrible war that killed twice as many wizards than both Wizarding Wars combined, was the cherry on top of the 'Fuck Me Sundae' that Harry's life had long since become.

'_But maybe not…_' Harry thought as he tore through the brush.

His wand was charred, cracked, and sparked with every use. He could feel it cry out with each use, but he willed it to hold on for just a few hours longer. He would have been there hours ago had he had full use of his left leg. Regardless he pressed on, the air taking on a quality he would likely never forget. It had started nearly two years ago, long after the muggles had begun their extermination campaign against the wizards. Hermione...dear Hermione and her books. What little hope left in Harry was buried deep within her books. A small book, less than 100 tiny pages, yet each one was painted with the most intricate pictures. A thousand years of effort for such a small book.

Hermione wouldn't tell me where she had gotten it at first, before admitting she had felt drawn to it during a raid on the Death Eaters.

"It practically glowed, Harry." She had said, holding up the solid black book.

It had laid within her bag for nearly two years, before being stumbled upon once more. It was slow going, originally written in Latin, but for a mind like Hermiones, any challenge between her and a book was a challenge already beaten. It was all just a matter of time.

'_Time…_' Harry thought, pulling his mind from the memory.

The tiny book was about time. Time, and the creatures outside of it.

"Fae…" Harry whispered, as the air around him practically sparkled.

The Fae had left humans long ago, hiding deep within the forests, and jungles. As far from humans as they could be, building their grand halls, palaces, and whathaveyou. To track them down, Harry had needed more than a willful mind, or passion in his heart. Harry had needed desperation. He and Hermione had made this trip twice before and been rebuffed each time. Walking in circles, confusion, even waking up a thousand miles away. But now…

'_But now I have nothing left…_' Harry thought as he crested the small hill.

The air was still, the sounds of the jungle now faded into background noise. It was so quiet that his ragged breaths, even the beating of his heart was loud enough to be worrisome. A dozen feet ahead of him was an archway of branches, covered in vines and moss. That it hung motionless in the sky, hovering twelve feet up, told him that it was anything but natural. He glanced around, considering his options, before deciding it was time. With a final slash of his wand, a tree twisted, forming a natural walkway to the archway. As Harry scrambled up the tree, he tossed his wand aside. Where he was going, his wand was unneeded.

As he entered the archway, it felt as though he was walking through liquid ice. His body was frozen, as he pushed his way through, his eyes filled with darkness and stars. He kept moving forward, the resistance growing, but forcing himself to push further. Everything hung in the balance, and he would not be denied again. With a final push, he was free, able to once more rake in the ragged breaths that sustained him. He fell to his knees, exhausted, on the edge of consciousness.

"Harry Potter...The Boy-Who-Lived." He heard a soft, tiny voice.

Harry looked up, at last, finding a clearing of flower, but he was no longer alone. The creature was small, no more than five feet tall. Its body was shimmering liquid glass, flowing, changing colors. Around it was a miasma of stars, sparkling and twinkling, moving around it. As he studied it, the flowing seemed to halt, moving backward, till it formed into a more humanoid shape and color. A young woman, no older than 20 now stood before him, as naked as the cloudless sky above, flowing blonde hair down to her shoulders. If you had met her on the street, you'd have found her pretty, if her face was slightly less ferocious.

Harry nods, as he clambers to his feet. "Yes...I-I'm Harry Potter."

"I know…" The creature replies. "I know also why you have come here."

He stared at her, watching her eyes carefully, looking for any sign that he would be lucky once more.

"And will you?" He asks at last.

"Perhaps, Harry Potter." It, no, She replies. "What do you have to trade for this service?"

"I...I have nothing. My life, my soul, my magic. The clothes on my back. Everything else has been stripped away." He replies.

"I see." She replies, before reaching her hand out to the side, as a small butterfly lands upon it. "Your life is meaningless to me Harry Potter. Even now you are dying, wasting away. A few more months, and you'd succumb. Your soul...Your soul is beautiful, but even one such as I have no use for it."

"Then…" He starts to reply before she starts speaking again.

"Your magic is powerful, but weak compared to my own." She says as the butterfly flits away. "I have no use for clothes."

"I...The world is ending. Please...Do it for everyone else then, if not for me." Harry argues, pleading.

The Fae studies him for a moment, before turning away, lightly studying one of the tall flowers. "Do you understand why you're actually here, Harry Potter?"

"What?" Harry asked, stunned. "Of course! I'm here to save the world."

Her laughter was like wind chimes, the soft tinkling of glass in a soft breeze. His breathing seemed easier, for a moment, before she turned back to him.

"The world, Harry Potter?" She asked. "No...You're here to save her."

Even as she said it, Harry felt the truth of the words settle upon him. As much as the world meant to him, it was Hermione that made the world worth saving. Tears filled his eyes as he was filled with memories of her.

"It's true...Nothing else matters as long as she lives." Harry said at last.

"Then I have an offer, Harry Potter." The creature said as she turned back to him.

Her form shifted, flowing, growing, as she grew into a taller form. Her hair darkened, fluffing, matching the vision he saw in his mind almost exactly. Before him stood Hermione, just as she had the night of his 19th birthday. His heart thudded in his chest at the sight.

"I'll send you back, Harry Potter. Back to your 11th birthday, on the day you learned who you truly are." Not-Hermione said. "But in return, you will give up the one you love. Her life will no longer be connected to your own. So long as she remains out of your life, in all ways, the contract will remain intact."

Harry froze, agony in his eyes, and in his heart.

"The world, Harry Potter. Save the world, and you save the girl. Happy, but without you in it." The Fae said, playing with Hermione's hair.

Harry nodded, finally, accepting the deal. "I'll do it. I'll...I'll happily sacrifice my life with her for that chance."

Silence filled the clearing, as the Fae studied his face. She walked forward till their chests were touching, staring up into his eyes. Those green eyes, rimmed with pain and fear and love. She lifted slightly onto her tippy toes, pressing Not-Hermione's lips against his own, a light kiss to seal the deal.

"Happily, Harry Potter?" She asked as she took a step back, turning away, walking back with a sway to her hips. "You're a terrible liar. Let's hope that you're a man of your word."

With that, she clapped her hands above her head, and like a shattering of glass, Harry knew no more.

* * *

**July 31st, 1991**

A loud boom echoed through the small cabin, shaking it by the foundation. Another boom and the door smashed open, letting the storm that raged outside now in. As Harry scrambled to his feet, he couldn't help but feel complete elation. He had done it…

* * *

A/N: Fun! Don't forget to join my Discord, _discord__ DOT gg/UZWUKsh _! I've got a P.A.T.R.E.O.N.! Check out my discord, or take a look at my profile. This chapter was posted LAST week to my readers. If you'd like to read my work early, feel free to join.


	6. Chapter 6

The Game

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter, all related characters, locations, and events, are owned by Warner Brothers, J.K. Rowling, and multiple parties. No infringement is intended, nor should it be expected. Fair use only._

* * *

**One-Shot: The Game(Technically you lost, BTW. Don't me.)**

* * *

**September 1st, 1992**

Hermione's eyes opened to the soft beeping of her alarm clock, pinging away to tell her it was half-past six. While everything had been packed away several days before, it appeared the habit she had formed in her first year had carried over. She reached out and switched the switch to the left, halting the soft beeping, blinking rapidly to clear the sleep from her eyes. Something was different, but she couldn't quite place it…A feeling as though everything had shifted just barely to the left.

Shaking her head, she scooted out of bed, pattering out of her bedroom to the bathroom. She quickly finished, showering, and then getting dressed in the clothes she had set out the night before. Her hair was still wet, and she wished desperately she could use Magic to dry it. The rule, however, was very clear on the use of magic by underage witches and wizards. This didn't stop her from practicing wand movements, and pronunciations as often as she could. As she made her way towards the kitchen, she stumbled, her vision flashing for a moment.

A wave of panic flashed through her as she regained her feet. As she did, she couldn't help but look around in confusion. Nothing seemed different, but she felt as though she were dreaming, as though the hallway was hazy in a way unlike ever before. She pushed down the momentary panic, finishing the short walk to the kitchen. As she entered, her father was already sitting at the table, drinking tea, and reading the paper. On the table was a tea set, her great grandmothers she understood, and a plate of buttered toast. He looked the same as he did each morning, yet she still took pause. Floating above his head was the weirdest thing she had ever seen.

**Daniel Granger**

**Squib**

**97/100 HP**

She read it twice, frowning, before carefully making her way to the table.

'_What's a squib?' _She wondered.

Her father looked up from his paper as she sat down. "Good morning Hermione. Are you ready to go back to school?"

"Yes, Dad…" She replied, glancing above his head again. '_Maybe I've gone mad?_'

She sat there for a moment, drinking the tea that had already been set out when she could hear her mother coming down the hallway.

'_Okay...if my mum has it as well, it must mean I'm not mad_' She thought, biting into a piece of toast.

Her mother entered, immediately greeting her, and making her way to the fridge to start a quick breakfast.

**Emma Granger**

**Muggle**

**100/100 HP**

Her eyes followed the floating information above her mother, as she moved about the kitchen. She was thankful at this point that she had read every single book in the house as at least HP meant something to her. Her father, a self-professed nerd, had an original set of Dungeons and Dragons books from the first 1974 release. They were some of the first books she read as a child, the fantastic drawings truly sticking out to her.

'_Wish I could roll perception…_' She thought, as she slowly ate the plate of food her mum set before her.

She had almost expected invisible dice to roll for her, giving her information, but when nothing happened, she frowned internally.

'_Maybe I am going mad…_' She thought. '_I expected dice to roll? Pfft. Next I'll be asking for a stat block._'

No sooner had she thought it, then the world around her greyed over, a sheet of paper appearing floating in front of her. With a squeak, she jumped back, knocking the chair she had been sat in over, the crash oddly muted. She stared at the world around her, a soft drone filling the air. Carefully she walked forward, her hand shaking as her fingertips touched the paper, jerking back as though shocked.

'_It's...real? I can touch it?_' She thought, reaching out once more to grab it.

Both sides were covered in writing, and it took but a moment to read the sheet.

**Harry Potter: The Game**

**Hermione Granger**

**Witch**

**150/150 HP**

**75/75 MP**

**Lvl 2**

**S: 10**

**C: 12**

**D: 10**

**I: 15**

**W: 13**

**C: 8**

Below this were feats, like Advanced Memory, or special abilities like Advanced Recitation. Along with a list of all the spells she had learned through reading, and how well she could cast them.

"What is happening…" She whispered the paper clutched in her hand. "R-resume?"

No sooner had she said it, then she was sitting once more at the table, fork in hand, a bit of egg just an inch from her mouth. She coughed in surprise, looking around in wonder.

"Hermione? Are you okay?" Her mother asked, joining them at the table.

"Fine, Mum. Just excited to go back to Hogwarts…" She replied, before taking a bite of egg.

The conversation moved on from there, giving no clue to the burning thoughts in her mind as they all spoke. No one noticed before they left for Kings Cross, the D&D books being slipped into her trunk.

'_Just some research…_' She thought as she closed her trunk. '_My life isn't a game, but whatever this thing is, it seems to match what I remember from these books. Better safe than sorry. Or crazy._'

* * *

**Harry Potter**

**Wizard - Chosen One**

**150/150 HP**

**210/210 MP**

_'Chosen One…_' She mouthed, once Harry had arrived in the common room.

It says a lot of the world she was quickly finding that she lived in, that Harry having a special title meant next to nothing to what stood next to him.

**Peter Pettigrew**

**Wizard - Rat Animagus - Death Eater**

**1200/1200 HP**

**350/740 MP**

Thanks to her fantastic memory, or perhaps the feat Advanced Memory, she recognized the name, Peter Pettigrew.

'_Killed by Sirius Black...Page 73 in Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts._' She thought, doing her best not to stare at the rat. '_All they found was his finger...The same finger that Scabbers is missing._'

The facts were, today had been a day of interesting revelations. Professor Snape had two special titles, one denoting him as a Death Eater, Professor Lockhart was marked as a "Fraud", and Professor Dumbledore was the leader of a secret group known as "The Order Of The Phoenix". Oh, and one of her best friends pet rats was a man that had supposedly died 10 years previously, and the cherry on top was he was a Death Eater...

"What was I expecting…" She thought aloud.

"What was that Hermione?" Harry asked, looking up.

"N-nothing Harry. I...I need to go see Professor McGonagall." She said, swiftly standing from the little table they had sat at.

"Hermione, it's the first night!" Ron exclaimed. "What could you possibly need to talk to her about?"

She stammered for a moment, before turning and simply leaving. The Fat Lady's cries of the approaching curfew landing solely on her deaf ears as she rushed down the hallway. She was thankful that Mcgonagall's office was only a floor down, and a few hallways away, as she was unlikely to run into anyone so near curfew. Yet run into someone she did, taking the final corner at nearly a run. With a muffled cry, she slammed to the ground, surely bruising her bum.

"How...unexpected." She heard a dark voice say, before looking up to meet their eyes. "If anyone would be out after curfew, you were the least likely of your little group, Ms. Granger. Explain. Now."

"Professor Snape, I...I needed to see Professor McGonagall, sir. It's urgent." She replies, climbing to her feet unassisted.

"Urgent, you say?" Professor Snape says, tapping his chin lightly. "I'm sure it can wait till morning, Ms. Granger. Ten...no, let's make it fifteen points from Gryffindor. Go back to your common room."

"Professor, no, please!" Hermione exclaimed. "I need to see Professor McGonagall, sir, please. It can't wait till morning."

"Such nerve. Twenty points from Gryff-" Snape began, before being interrupted.

"Peter Pettigrew is alive!" Hermione yelled, shocked at her own gall. What shocked her, even more, was the sudden silence from Snape.

He studied her face, the tears in her eyes, before finally responding. "Explain, Ms. Granger."

"I-I...I don't know how Sir." Hermione says.

While his patience was being tested, Hermione was not one for flights of fancy, as he well knew. "Start from the beginning."

And so she did. She spoke of how she could see information about people, their names, their stats. How she likened it to a muggle game her father enjoyed, of which Snape was at least peripherally aware. His hiss when she mentioned his Death Eater title was next to nothing compared to his reaction at Harry Potter's title.

"Chosen one…" Severus repeated a near whisper.

"Yes sir...but Ron's rat...He doesn't show as Scabber Sir. It says he is Peter Pettigrew, Rat Animagus, Death Eater." Hermione finished.

Snape's eyes were dark, far darker than normal, burning with rage. Hermione couldn't read his mind, but if she could she would have been terrified at the visions housed within. Without a word Professor Snape went around her, heading in the direction she had come from. The sudden departure startled her, her head moving back and forth between Professor McGonagall's door, and Snapes retreating back.

* * *

**Gryffindor Common Room**

The portrait nearly exploded open, pulled open with such force that papers on the table were ruffled. Professor Snape entered, his robe billowing behind him. Percy Weasley was one of the few still in the common room, jumping to his feet as Snape entered.

"Professor? What can we do for you." Percy asked, startled.

"Everyone but Mr. Weasley out of the common room. Now." Snape ordered, which sent the few students still up scurrying.

"You once owned a pet rat, did you not?" Snape asks, eying the boy closely, once he was all that remained."

"Yes Sir, Scabbers. Ron owns him now," Percy replied. "Is something wrong?"

"I need you to go to your brother's room and collect the rat. Do not startle the rat or your brother." Snape says, motioning Percy along.

Percy was confused but knew better than to disobey such a direct order from a teacher, even one such as Snape. Ron was already snoring away, Scabbers sleeping on the pillow next to his head. Gently picking the rat up, he quickly left the room. Scabbers woke up, looking antsy for a moment, before calming down in Percy's hands. That calmness lasted until he was once more in the common room, Professor Snape standing near the exit of the common room. The rat wiggled, attempting to break free, but Percy had long since learned how best to hold the rat.

"Here you are, Professor," Percy says, holding the rat aloft.

Professor Snape flicked his wand, the rat lifting into the air from Percy's hands. A slash, and a whispered word, the rat glowing bright red against the darkness of the common room.

"My word!" Someone gasped from the entrance to the common, Snape's head snapping back to see who had entered.

It happened instantly, when it did, the small rat no longer a rat, but a short man, a light wand grasped tightly in his hand, Snape's loss of attention all it took. A purple light filled the room as a blast like a cannon was emitted from the wand in the ratlike man's hand. Snape was already turning, but he knew it was too late. A lapse in concentration would cost him his life…

The ball of purple energy sailed past, just barely missing Snape, the twitching hand of the traitor so unused to casting spells of that power. With a snap of his wand, ropes shot out, coiling around the seemingly alive Pettigrew. They tightened in response to the caster's rage, sharp pops as bones broke, or dislocated. There was a flash of fire, Dumbledore appearing in the flame of his Phoenix, Fawkes. His own wand already at the ready, a stunning spell hit Pettigrew square, knocking him unconscious.

"Severus?" Albus said, taking note of the situation.

Before he could speak, they turned, as Mcgonnagal began to wail from the entryway. Clutched in her arms was the already cooling body of Hermione Granger, dead from being in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

* * *

**September 1st, 1992**

Hermione's eyes opened to the soft beeping of her alarm clock, pinging away to tell her it was half-past six. She shot up, gasping for breath, feeling her body in surprise.

'_I...died…_' She thought, remembering how it felt as her heart stopped dead in her chest, the creeping numbness as it spread through her body in her final moments...

**Check Point Loaded**

A small set of floating words hovered just barely out of reach, as she took stock of herself. The day's events were fresh in her mind, burned into her memory in a way unlike how she normally thought. It seemed that whatever was happening to her even let her survive her mistakes. As she considered this new development, a small thought popped into the back of her head.

'_What could I have done differently?_' She thought, before catching herself. '_Wait...I'm thinking about doing that again?_'

The more she thought about it, the more she realized that she had no other choice. She could never live with herself, even as dangerous as it obviously was, if she didn't do her best. Right now, her best was apparently to treat today as a game and simply put her best foot forward. For Hermione Granger, Gamer, that was what she did best.

* * *

**Dumbledore's Office**

The Wizened Wizard stared at her through his half-moon glasses, a glint in his eyes that Hermione did not yet recognize.

"Peter Pettigrew, you say?" He asked, finally, as she finished explaining.

"Yes Professor. I don't understand it, but unless I've gone mad, Peter Pettigrew lives, and has lived, as the Weasley Family pet rat." She replied.

"Extraordinary…" He practically whispered. "And you said that Harry Potter was titled as "The Chosen One? Have you perchance taken a look at Mr. Longbottom?"

"No Sir? Should I?" She asked, confused by the change in the conversation.

"No no, nothing to worry about there," Dumbledore replied, before pulling out his wand.

A softly whispered word, and a white Phoenix, burning an ethereal light, floated silently in the air. "Go to Severus, tell him to gather Minerva, whom I expect has already retired to her chambers, and to meet me at the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room."

The Phoenix silently screamed, before disappearing in a flash of light. "Professor...what was that?"

"That my dear was a Patronus. A tricky spell, but quite useful. I expect you'll experience it prior to your seventh year…" He replied, gathering himself. "Now, let us return to the common. I have much to prepare."

* * *

**Gryffindor Common Room**

For a Wizard of such advanced age, Hermione had found herself needing to move at double speed to keep up with him. The Fat Lady had opened on her own, even before Dumbledore had spoken, leading them swiftly into the common room. It was still quite early, the feast had ended less than an hour before, many more upper-year students still lounging around.

"Excuse me Gryffindors, if I may have your attention?" Professor Dumbledore said, needlessly. Every eye had already been on him from the moment he entered.

"I have need for the common room for the next hour or so. Would you be so kind as to retire to your dormitories for the time being? He asked, to which the students were quick to follow suit.

As the final student left, Dumbledore was already waving his wand, the very walls and floor of the common room melting, closing off the windows, the small cracks, even the fireplace. A swish and the furniture was gone, leaving the room completely flat, empty, and sealed off. Part of the floor swelled up, encircling Hermione, before a small translucent window opened up, giving her a clear view of the room. The only remaining entrances were the staircase leading to the boy's dormitories, and the main entrance, which just now opened to allow Professors Snape and McGonagall in.

"Albus?" Minerva asked, wide-eyed as she stared around the featureless room, glancing back as the entrance sealed over as well.

"Severus, Minerve, thank you for joining me so quickly," Dumbledore replied, at last lowering his wand, motioning to the sealed in student. "Miss Granger here brought me some very interesting news, news that against all logic I have come to believe."

"What news, Albus?" Snape asked, sneering at the room around him.

"That Peter Pettigrew still lived, and that he was a secret Death Eater, having faked his death over a decade ago," Albus says, flicking his wand at the boy's staircase. "If she is correct, I felt that having back up in place should he attempt to escape to be prudent."

"Absurd," Snape said.

"Be that as it may, we shall know either way shortly," Albus replied. "Wands up."

Albus motioned towards the staircase, a flash of blue light slamming into a floating, struggling rat, no sooner than it had turned the corner. As it floated into the room, the staircase sealed as well, leaving the room a flat, featureless bowl. Albus gave his wand a light flick, the rat glowing a soft red, even as McGonnagal gasped.

"It would seem, Miss Granger, that you are not quite as mad as you had worried," Albus whispered. "Severus, you know the charm?"

"Of course," Snape replied, stepping forward.

"Minerva, as you know, the stun will break once he has been untransfigured. Please stun him immediately." Albus ordered.

Together Professors Dumbledore and Snape held their wands aloft, pointing at the sleeping rat. Like a plant growing extremely fast, where before a rat had floated, a man instead fell to the floor. The panicked look on his face was all it took, as a blue light slammed into him immediately after from McGonagall's wand. Snape strode forward, yanking the Wizards robe up, revealing to the room a faded Dark Mark.

"What does this mean, Albus?" Minerva asked, staring down at the living Peter Pettigrew.

"It means that Sirius Black is innocent…" Albus replied softly.

As Snape swore silently, Hermione could not help but smile. It seemed that with enough planning, or perhaps enough tries, there was a path to victory in every situation. She wasn't sure where this ability had come from, nor what powered it, but she planned to use it to the best of her ability.

**Check Point Reached!**

* * *

A/N: Yes, you lost the game. Sorry, not sorry….Hope you enjoyed another one shot! Another story that may well one day be fleshed out into a full-fledged story. Join my discord! I've got other stories and a whole community for them. Take a look at my p.a.t.r.e.o.n.!

Until next time, this is Klldarkness! Discord gg /82FUz8N


	7. Chapter 7

**The Good Race Pt. 3**

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter, all related characters, locations, and events, are owned by Warner Brothers, J.K. Rowling, and multiple parties. No infringement is intended, nor should it be expected. Fair use only._

* * *

**One Shot: The Good Race Pt. 3 - The Second Life**

* * *

**November 11th, 1996 - Ministry Of Magic**

Harry's vision was black, his head covered, his mouth gagged. All he could do was hear, to listen to fools, wizards, and witches, as they decided his fate, the taste of blood still in his mouth. His body ached, the cold tearing at his weakened muscles. Weeks of liquid-only diet having damaged his body even more than years of malnourishment at the hands of the Dursleys.

"I call to order the 132nd Wizengamot!" Minister Fudge crowed, as he slammed the gavel down on to the table before him.

It did not take long for the noise to calm down, for silence to once more fall upon the crowded room. There was an odd murmur or two in the background, but the din had quieted down.

"For the past three days we have heard testimony from multiple experts from the Department of Mysteries, and Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Being and Spirit divisions." Fudge says, his voice magically carrying across the room. "We have consulted with experts across the entire Wizarding World, hearing their own testimonies."

There is a hush now, a quiet so deep you could almost feel it as it pressed down upon you. The lone sound is a quill scribbling away in the background.

"The time has come to vote…" Fudge continues. "In the case of the British Ministry for Magic vs. Harry James Potter, I call this trial to a close. Clerk, if you will."

"I shall read each charge one at a time. After each, light your wand for a vote of Guilty!" The Clerk of Courts says, standing somewhere near the front. "Charge one! Criminal Mischief in relation to the absolute flow of time! The charged has entered a plea of not guilty."

There is a murmur now, as Harry strains his ears to hear anything that could tell him his fate.

"Noted." The Clerk says after a moment. "Charge two! Consorting with Creatures in an effort to pervert the flow of time! The charged has entered a plea of not guilty."

On and on it flows, charge after charge, each related to time in some way. Except for the murders, of course. Those wouldn't be mentioned as Harry had entered guilty pleas to those. Harry shakes, the coldness of the Dementors so close by. He knows, inside, that he won't be escaping this one. The only ally he had left was dead, Dumbledores life ended by a student under the Imperio Curse. The world had turned on him so quickly, despite his best efforts.

"Charge 19! Perversion of Magic in relation to the absolute flow of time!" The Clerk called out, as the counts began.

'_I was such a fucking idiot…'_ Harry thought, as his guilt was pronounced. '_How could I ever think this would be easy. "Oh, I'm Harry Potter! I'll go back in time and save the world so easily! I know everything blah." Fucking fool of a wizard…'_

Harry can hear the footfalls of many sets of feet, announcing the room is slowly emptying, the trial officially at its end.

"Aurors, if you would?" Fudge asks as Harry hears movement all around him.

There is a blinding flash of light as the hood over his head is ripped off, seeing anything but darkness for the first time in weeks. It took a moment for his eyes to stop watering, the fires burning brightly, despite being so low. Around him were twelve Aurors, each with their wand pointed directly at his head. Each tensed as he looked at them, the ones in his point of view, at least. The two on the left and right move their wands imperceptively, and what feels like hands invisibly grab him by the arms, lifting him to his feet. As one, the Aurors move around Harry, forcing him to stumble along as they exit the Court.

Harry shivers as two Dementors join them, circling slowly around the group as they move. The cold chills Harry to the core, the fingers of ice seeping deeper and deeper into his soul. Having spent weeks shackled, unable to even stand, his legs are barely able to keep him standing. He stumbles several times, the ethereal hands on his arms the only thing saving him from a tumble to the hard, dark stone beneath them.

'_Fucking Dumbledore...Fucking Voldemort…_' Harry thought, as they at last came to a large dark wood door.

"_We'll take him from here._" A muffled voice says, as the door opens, showing three Unspeakables waiting.

The Aurors split apart, opening an area between them, and the Unspeakables. With a wave of their wands, Harry is lifted and carried through the doorway, the door closing behind him. There is a warmth in this new room, and it takes Harry a moment to realize that the Dementors had not come with them. The question must have been clear on his face, as one of the Unspeakables waiting with him addressed it immediately.

"_The Dementors are not a part of your sentence, Potter._" A whispered voice. "_Crimes against time…_"

There was a moment of relief, but it didn't last long as they moved into the next room. There was a just a barely-there whisper in the air, unheard words that tested the edge of consciousness. Harry's heart was pounding in his chest for the first time in weeks. He'd have struggled now, here, faced with his own mortality, had it not been for the shackles on his wrists and feet. His connection to magic was gone, torn away weeks ago, sucked away into the hard gleaming metal adorning his limbs.

Down the dark stone stairs, growing closer to the dias at the center. Two Unspeakables stood there, watching silently as Harry was carried to them,.

"_Mr. Potter…_" One of them, maybe even both, said. "_For Crimes Against Time...you will face the Veil._"

Harry was lifted to the dias, set gently on his feet. His eyes were wide, watching the veil drift lightly in the nonexistent wind. The gag around his mouth is removed, his jaw clenched hard from weeks of unuse.

"_Your final words, Mr. Potter?_" They spoke, this time clearly together.

With an audible grown, Harry stretches his jaw, wavering on his feet. His ears filled with the whispers of voices, almost recognizable, but at such a distance as to be inaudible.

"I-...I don't regret it." Harry says, eyes locked on the veil. "I never will."

Harry takes a step forward, the shackles only allowing a shuffle. His sudden movement causes the Unspeakables to raise their wands, but they falter as they watch him. It would seem that this one still had the will power to walk...

"I'm Harry Fucking Potter…" He says as he steps towards the next life. "And I have not yet begun to fight!"

With his final words, he lurches forward, and through the veil. He hears them, then, at last understanding the look of peace on Sirius's face.

"Harry…" Hermione whispers, reminiscent of so many lives ago.

"Don't give up..." An unknown voice.

"You have my utmost faith, Mr. Potter." Dumbledore says, so close, yet so far away.

A million voices, all those that believed in him, loved him, needed him, from his first life to his last. Harry Potter died, but he was never alone.

* * *

**July 31st, 1991**

Harry jerked awake, the pounding on the door not unlike the crash of lightning outside. He wiped the tears from his eyes, forcing himself to concentrate on what Hagrid was saying.

"I-I'm Harry…" says, at last, drawing the half-giants attention from Dudley.

He meant what he said, as he walked to his death. He was never alone, the millions of lives crying out for justice at his back. He may have died, and will likely die again, but he wouldn't stop until he had won.

He was Harry Fucking Potter, and he had not yet begun to fight.

* * *

A/N: Been a while! This is a continuation of chapters 1, and 5. Chapter 1 showed the end of one of his later lives, chapter 5 showed how he began the loop. This chapter shows how that first looped life ended.

Until next time, this is Klldarkness! _discord__ DOT gg/UZWUKsh_


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